


The Reason for the Season

by Chash



Series: Holiday Fills 2016 [5]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Foster Family, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 22:01:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8817805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: It's been a long time since Christmas was a big deal for Bellamy and Octavia. But this year, they're living with Clarke. And Clarke seems to actually care about Christmas.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for [lushatrocity](http://lushatrocity.tumblr.com) and [jane-and-jane](http://jane-and-jane.tumblr.com)!

Christmas hasn't ever been a big deal for the Blakes.

Aurora was never into it, although Bellamy is pretty sure she would have liked to be. But she couldn't afford the kind of Christmas she thought she should give her children, so she just decided not to celebrate, as a defensive move. For the first few years of Octavia's life, from when she was five to eight, roughly, he could make Christmas work for her on a budget, but then she figured out the reason she never got much was that they were poor and he couldn't afford it. Handmade presents lost their appeal after that, and he never figured out how to make her excited again. And, after a while, he stopped trying. Christmas wasn't a thing they did. It was fine. It didn't need to be.

So it didn't really occur to him that Christmas might be a thing Clarke cared about.

Which was probably stupid, but he just doesn't tend to think about Christmas much. Besides, Clarke is impossible to predict, really. He could make arguments for her being really excited about Christmas--likes giving people things, rich, probably raised kind of Christian--and for her being against it--capitalism, commercialization, occasionally just spiteful for no reason--but when he briefly thought about it, he'd come down on the side of her just not giving much of a fuck either way.

And that was definitely stupid. Clarke basically always gives a fuck. Clarke gives fucks on a semi-professional level.

In his defense, her Christmas spirit comes on somewhat late. After all, November and the beginning of December is busy with his lease ending and his moving into her place, which takes up most of their brain power for a while. He's pretty sure it's the right decision, but it's still its own unique kind of terrifying. He's never moved in with a significant other before, never been serious enough about anyone, and it's only been six months since he met Clarke. In many ways, it makes all the sense in the world: Clarke owns a condo, she has a nice, large bed, and he sleeps at her place more than he sleeps at home already. Octavia lives with her, and if he moves in, he can help out more easily.

Also, he's in love with her and wants to be around her all the time. That's a big thing too.

But he also knows there are all sorts of other practical concerns. They've only known each other for six months. He's somewhat biased about her because she's taking care of his sister. If this goes wrong, it goes wrong on catastrophic, horrific levels from which he might never recover. From which _Octavia_ might never recover.

He still thinks it was the right call, and he's fucking _ecstatic_ , but his fretting ate up large chunks of November, while Clarke was planning and organizing and figuring out how to rearrange her place so he could live there.

It was very easy to just forget about Christmas, given the circumstances.

But then on December 3, Octavia texts him at work: _SOS, Clarke has lost it._

He wants to take the message seriously; she's gotten better about the deliberate sabotage thing. Part of it is probably that he actually _does_ like his current positions. They're not careers or anything, but he's got two part-time jobs and he's taking a couple classes at the community college, and he's really happy.

That doesn't mean his sister suddenly stopped testing boundaries or anything. Octavia is still Octavia.

So he replies, _Lost it how? If it's an emergency, call 911_ , and hopes she replies before his break is over.

Thankfully, it's basically immediate. _Actually, I'm going to let it be a surprise. Get pumped_

Thankfully, he only has two hours left on his shift after break, and even if the last few tours he gives aren't quite up to his usual standard, even his subpar tours are great, so the visitors don't notice.

And Octavia was right; Clarke's issue is obvious from the second he gets to to door and sees a wreath there.

Not that wreaths are _bad_ , of course. Or even particularly suspicious, in and of themselves. But his family has never done much by way of Christmas decoration, and even if wreaths aren't a big deal, they represent a level of dedication to the holiday that Bellamy finds somewhat baffling.

Which is a sign that he's way more Christmas-averse than he realized, and a somewhat worrying sign at that, because it's just not a big deal at all. It's a _wreath_. It doesn't mean anything.

Luckily, when he opens the door, it's like Christmas has exploded all over the apartment, so his wariness is justified.

Octavia is sitting on the couch with the cat, reading, but she looks up to smirk at his gobsmacked expression.

"I told you."

There is holly in the eaves. There is evergreen over the doorway. It's all very floral, which Bellamy appreciates, because he finds Santa kind of weird, and he has no strong feelings about religion, so being surrounded by reindeer or angels or Jesus or whatever people use for Christmas decorations would definitely freak him out.

Well, freak him out more.

"Holy shit," he says.

"She made me help. I nearly called Roan to complain about abuse."

"Does she always do this, or is it for us?"

O makes a face. "Why would it be for us?"

"Because she likes doing nice stuff for us," he says. "Does she not have ornaments?" he adds, giving the bare tree a critical look.

"We're decorating the tree together. As a family. I'm going to have other plans."

"No, you're not." He flops down on the couch next to her. "It might be fun."

"You're not even excited, and it's _your_ girlfriend."

"I'm trying to keep an open mind," he says. "Where is she? Don't tell me there's more. This is already way too much."

"Groceries," says O. "I bet she's buying gingerbread or some shit. Milk and cookies for Santa."

He drops his head onto the couch. "You know there's nothing wrong with Christmas, right? Clarke's going to buy you like a billion presents."

"But we have to act like a happy family."

It's what's been bothering him too, he's pretty sure; Christmas always feels kind of shallow to him, a little forced. He spent so many years trying to make it out to be like the holidays he saw on TV, where it didn't matter that you didn't have enough money, because you had _love_.

Love is great, but money really helps.

"We are a happy family," he points out.

"Yeah, but not one of _those_ happy families. This is all--Hallmark movie shit."

Honestly, Bellamy is pretty sure that if their whole thing had taken place in winter, instead of from summer to fall, it would make a _perfect_ Hallmark movie. Rich white girls adopting orphans and falling in love with their brothers is Hallmark's bread and butter. But that's from his perspective, and that matters too. He got everything he's ever wanted: a steady home for himself and his sister, jobs he likes and prospects for his future, and someone who loves him.

But Octavia doesn't really know what she wants, and he understands that too. This is better for him than it is for her, and he'd feel guilty for that, except it's good for her too. It's just that she's fourteen, and he's spent his whole life trying to make sure she's better off than he was. Sometimes, he thinks he did the job too well, because now a warm place with people who love her doesn't feel like the best thing in the world to Octavia.

But it's the good kind of problem for her to have. Middle-class problems. _Safe_ problems.

"It doesn't have to be."

"She decorated the whole apartment while you weren't home as a surprise," O says, like this is some sort of checkmate.

"It's a gesture. She was trying to be nice. If we tell her we're not really into it, she's probably not going to force us. But--it might be fun, right?"

"God, is this what happens when you start having sex with someone? You get all sappy and biased?"

"Basically, yeah." He closes his eyes. "We can just do the good parts of Christmas."

"What are the good parts?"

"Presents, cookies, family. Don't tell me you don't like that stuff."

"Yeah, but--what if she's weird about it?"

"Then you don't have to come," he says. "But I'm going to have a nice holiday with my awesome girlfriend. And you can suck it."

"That's the Christmas spirit," says O, with a roll of her eyes.

"Oh, _now_ you care about the Christmas spirit," he teases, and hooks his arm around her neck. They scuffle, briefly, but by the time Clarke gets back, they've settled in next to each other, close and companionable.

It's very, very Hallmark.

"Hey," says Clarke, shrugging off her coat and shaking snowflakes out of her hair. "Did you freak out and I missed it?"

Bellamy considers. "Define _freak out_."

"I thought Octavia had some sort of deep Christmas trauma. Just based on her reaction to me asking her to help decorate."

"I do not!" Octavia protests. "It's just weird."

"Decorating?"

"We've never been much of a Christmas family."

Clarke ducks into the kitchen to unpack whatever she bought and then comes back to flop down on Bellamy's other side, tucked in her favorite place under his shoulder. "Good thing I don't talk to my mom anymore. A real Griffin Christmas would probably give you guys heart attacks."

"Really?" he asks.

"My parents had this giant Christmas party every year. It's a rich-person status thing. My mom still does it. Planning goes from like September to December and our house is so covered in shit that it looks like a Fifth Avenue display window."

"And you still want to celebrate Christmas after that?" Octavia asks, sounding wary.

"I still like _Christmas_. It was good once that was done. My dad and I got a new tree and decorated it with all the ugly ornaments my mom didn't want her guests to see. Wells and his family came over on Christmas day. There's good stuff."

"Still sounds like way too much to me," O mutters.

"So we'll do less," Clarke says, easy. "What do you guys usually do?"

"Chinese food and denial," he says. "It's not really our holiday."

"Cool. I'll decorate alone."

Her voice is unforced and easy, and he can't feel any tension in her body. By all indications, she really won't be upset if they don't participate in Christmas at all, if it's just her decorating.

He still feels guilty.

"I never said that," he says, tugging her closer. "I'm not against Christmas. Just inexperienced. I wouldn't mind learning."

Octavia groans. "You guys are totally going to get into Christmas now, aren't you? It's going to be a _thing_."

"Just lean into the Hallmark, O," he advises. "Resistance is futile."

*

"You need to tell me what you care about," Bellamy tells Clarke that night. It's not the first time they've been alone since the Christmas conversation, but he finds it easiest to talk to her about this stuff when they're _really_ alone, with no danger of Octavia overhearing.

And there's something weirdly nice about having conversations in bed, with the lights off. It's part of a serious relationship he never expected to value, the casual intimacy of curling up with someone and discussing the day in the dark, a private run-down just for the two of them.

"Globally?" Clarke asks, sounding dubious. "I care about a lot of things."

He kisses her neck. "About Christmas. What do you want me to do with you? I know it sounded kind of bad, but I don't actually hate Christmas."

There's a pause, and then she twists around in his arms, cuddling up against his chest. "I'm more curious about what you guys did. I sort of figured you'd have a ton of cute Christmas traditions. You're big on family and tradition."

"Nah," he says. "Once O figured out we were poor and all my Christmas stuff basically sucked, we stopped pretending."

Another pause, much longer. "You know that's really sad and depressing, right?"

"You know my life is sad and depressing, right?"

Clarke sighs and leans into him. "Look, you know I love your sister. But sometimes it's just--hard." When he tenses, she holds him tighter. "I know her life sucked. But your life sucked too, and you've spent all of yours trying to take care of her. She's a kid and it's been tough, but you were a kid too." Her lips press against his chest. "I want you guys to have a nice Christmas, but if she's not interested, I'll settle for _you_ having a nice Christmas."

It still feels so selfish, knowing that Clarke cares more about him than she does about Octavia. And it feels shitty thinking of it in those terms, because it's not really like that. Clarke _does_ love Octavia, and she'd never--it's not a _bad_ thing, that she cares about them in different ways. He's pretty sure Octavia _likes_ that Clarke doesn't act like she's her mom, or her big sister, or any kind of family to her. O's had plenty of foster families who acted like they wanted to keep her until they realized she was difficult, who acted like they were a family right from the start, like they'd never give up on her, and then they did.

Clarke is comprehensible to Octavia: she's rich, she's kind of guilty about it, and she wants to keep Bellamy, and Octavia comes with that. It's maybe unfortunate, that Octavia knows she can be a brat and Clarke won't give up on her. But it's not like she was less of a brat for any of her other foster families. Clarke's getting the standard treatment, with the bonus that O's not trying to leave.

"Trust me, my Christmas is going to be good." He kisses her temple. "I have really low expectations. But I want to do the stuff you like. I'm more worried about you having a shitty holiday."

"We're going to have a good time." She snuggles in, arms warm around him, and smiles. "And I've got a plan for Octavia too. Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," he says, and presses his lips to her hair. "Just--don't get your hopes up, okay? It's going to be nice, not miraculous."

"I'm pretty good at keeping my hopes realistic."

"Yeah. So--are we going to decorate the tree tomorrow?"

"Yup. And drink hot chocolate while we do it."

"That's nauseatingly wholesome."

"Yup," she says. "Get pumped."

"Can't wait," he says, and if she notices the total sarcasm failure, she's polite enough not to mention it.

*

Clarke's approach to Christmas with Octavia is basically the same as her approach to everything with Octavia: she does what she wants and lets Octavia make up her own mind about it. It's a good tactic to take, and Bellamy knows it. He wishes he could take it too, but he's spent too long being his sister's parent as well as her brother to change his approach now.

It's just as well they were too busy with the move for much of a Thanksgiving; he would have said some really embarrassingly sappy things about how grateful he is for Clarke's entire existence.

They start the tree while Octavia is on the couch with some homework, and Bellamy has to remind himself for the first ten minutes to not look at her. Clarke treats Octavia like she'd treat a stray cat, half the time; she leaves food out for her and tries not to let on that she's hoping to adopt her. 

It shouldn't work, because Octavia _knows_ what Clarke wants. They've talked about it. But they both seem to enjoy the pretense of ignorance. And, honestly, it's working, so Bellamy will go with it for as long as they want. And it's not actually hard to let himself forget about O on the couch and get sucked into decorating. Not because of any particularly inherent appeal to tree decorating, but because Clarke clearly likes it so much. 

"Like I said, this was me and my dad's thing," she says, unwrapping a delicate ornament with deliberate care. "He had a lot of ornaments that had been in his family for a while, and they're just--" She grins at Bellamy. "Honestly, they're really weird. Glass fruit and a lot of birds and these weird wood and felt guys from an advent calendar. I get why my mom wouldn't let us put them out. But--I don't really like the theme trees?"

"Theme trees?" he asks, totally lost. Their family had a three-foot plastic tree they put up every year, one of the ones with lights already in it, and never bothered with ornaments at all. Clarke's giant, living Christmas tree is something totally alien to him.

"Mom would always do matching decorations," Clarke explains. "She'd buy a few boxes of red and white balls from some fancy store and put only those on the tree, with some lights and popcorn garlands. It looked like they came off an assembly line. They were pretty, but not really--they didn't feel like _my_ trees."

"This is like talking to someone from another planet," he teases. "I never had any personal connection to Christmas trees."

"So watch and learn." She picks up one of the fruits and shows it to him. "First step, we show off whichever ornament we're putting up. Grab one."

He looks around at the ocean of boxes and selects a delicate blue globe covered in spindly silver snowflakes.

"Check," he says.

"We say anything we have to say about the ornaments, second step."

"What do we have to say about them?"

"I have stories about some of them. You can just talk about which ones are weird or look like dicks or whatever, though."

"Cool. Any stories about these?"

"My dad's cousin made the fruit."

"Wow, really?"

"Yeah, he did glass-blowing as a hobby."

"Why fruit?"

"He was a weird guy. I don't know. He thought it was more interesting than just regular ornaments. The grapes were apparently really challenging."

"Seems like it would just be a bunch of smaller orbs," Bellamy muses. "But I guess I'm not a glassblower. So, when do we hang them?"

"Once we finish talking about them. Anywhere is fine," she adds. "Like I said, I don't care about order. We just say what we want to say about the ornaments, put them up, and keep going until they're all gone."

"Seems pretty easy."

"Sorry, did you think decorating a Christmas tree was going to be challenging?"

He hangs his ornament and looks around for another one, goes for a fairly dull red ball this time, because he doesn't want to ask about it. "It sounded like your mom's trees were pretty complicated," he says instead.

"Yeah, but that's because they were status symbols. This is just for us." Luckily for him, she picks up another ornament and launches into a story about it, because the sentiment is enough to make his throat close.

At some point, he assumes, he will get used to having a family like this. Like he always wanted. Until then, it's going to be a little bit awkward. 

He can live with a little awkwardness.

It only takes twenty minutes for Octavia to get curious about what they're doing and come over, and Bellamy has to bite back on his smile. Honestly, this might actually qualify as a Christmas miracle. She's kind of snarky about the ones she's putting up, but it's not like Clarke _isn't_ \--they have a whole box of fancy silver ornaments that Clarke's grandfather bought after her grandmother found out he was fucking the nanny, which she relays with glee--and it feels like their kind of holiday. Just enough edge to keep it from feeling totally saccharine.

"Last three," says Clarke, and pulls out a box he hadn't noticed. She hands Bellamy a porcelain ornament shaped like a book, gives Octavia a cat one, and takes an apple one for herself. "New people means new ornaments."

"You're not new," Octavia says, inspecting her cat. It says _Octavia, 2016_ on the side, and Bellamy sees his book has a similar inscription. He'd like to believe his throat gets tight because it's just so sappy, but--yeah, this is completely and totally his kind of sap. He's into it.

"I felt left out," she tells Octavia. "I want a cool ornament too."

"Why an apple?"

"Teacher. They didn't have a huge selection." She bumps her shoulder against Octavia's. "You can come next year and help me pick."

"We have to do this every year?" O asks, but Bellamy thinks her irritation is basically just for show.

"You can stop whenever you want. But I'm going to keep doing it every year."

_Every year_ , Bellamy thinks, and puts up his own ornament.

"Yeah," he says. "I could do this again next year."

*

To his not-so-great surprise, Bellamy discovers that Clarke has a knack for picking Christmas activities that Octavia wants to get involved in. He's not sure that Clarke has good parental instincts--not that he thinks she'd be a _bad_ mother or anything--but she's unbelievably talent at getting Octavia to do what she wants. His favorite part is that Octavia clearly _knows_ Clarke is playing her, but she still can't resist taking the bait.

It bothered him at first, that Clarke's methods for dealing with his sister actually _worked_ , but he's come around to being grateful. There are still plenty of times when he does better with Octavia than Clarke does, but now if one of them can't deal with her, the other can try.

She's his partner, not his rival, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to him.

Some of the Christmas stuff happens with just him and Clarke. While Octavia is out with friends, they watch her favorite holiday movies--aside from _Die Hard_ , which O's obviously into--and neither of them tries very hard to get her to help with cooking. Cooking has always been their thing, not Octavia's.

But Clarke gets her to come skating by pointing out that Bellamy is definitely going to fall on his ass (which he does), and even gets her to help make a _snowman_. He's still not sure how, and he's afraid asking will fuck everything up, so he lets it go. They drink hot chocolate and wear warm sweaters and it's honestly so wholesome he feels like he's getting cavities.

"So, how much of this is for my benefit?" he can't help asking. It's the twenty-second, and they're getting last-minute presents for Octavia. He's pretty sure she's never gotten so many gifts in her entire life up to this point, but he's mostly convinced himself that it's a good thing. It _is_. It sucks that they were so badly off before, but it's good that they're well-off now. That's how it works.

"How much of what?" Clarke asks.

"The Christmas stuff. There's no way you go ice-skating and make snowmen alone."

She snorts. "No, because that would be sad." She picks up a mug that says _If you're not coffee, I'm not interested_ and examines it critically. "I did stuff with Raven and Wells last year, but that was a little--they were happy to have me. But I felt like a third wheel." He can see her biting her lip. "I don't want to do this stuff _for_ you, I want to do it _with_ you. It's a family holiday. I'm excited to have a family again."

It feels so obvious, now that she's said it.

"Sorry," he says, sliding his hand into hers and squeezing.

"For what?"

"Should have realized not everything was about me," he says, and she laughs.

"I want you to have a nice Christmas too. And Octavia."

"It's about family," he supplies.

"Yeah. It's about family. And it's good, right?"

His smile must be ridiculous. "Yeah. It's good."

*

He gives his sister until ten-thirty on Christmas Eve and then kicks her foot to wake her up. She makes an irritated noise and sticks her head out of a cocoon of blankets, blinking at him owlishly. "What?" she asks.

"We need to do something nice for Clarke."

"What?"

He sits down on the end of her bed. "For Christmas."

O groans and flops onto her back. "Ugh, I knew this was going to happen. You got infected. Now you believe in Christmas."

"I believe Clarke's dad died and she used to do Christmas stuff with him, and this is her first year getting to do it with us. I know we don't care about Christmas, but she does. And we care about her, right?"

"Oh," says Octavia.

"Yeah. So we need to do something nice for her. You got her a present, right?"

"Obviously. I'm not that much of an asshole."

"A good present?"

"It's a present for both of you and you're going to like it," she says. "What else do you want to do?"

"She's doing stuff with Wells for a couple hours. So we have time to make cookies."

"God, you suck at this. I thought it was going to be something _big_."

"I also bought some more Christmas lights. To put up around the house." He groans and flops onto the bed beside her. "Fuck. That's corny, right? I don't fucking know what to do. I suck at Christmas."

"Did you make her a card?" Octavia asks, a little hesitant.

"What?"

"You used to make me those fancy cards for Christmas. You learned calligraphy. Those were cool. She'd like one of those."

He turns to look at her. "Really?"

She worries her lip, looking annoyed and embarrassed in equal measure. "Look, you didn't--Christmas wasn't _bad_ , Bell. But I hated that you did all this _work_. You had better things to do than make homemade ornaments just for me. It didn't have to be such a big, stupid deal. You didn't need to feel bad about it."

He swallows. "So you told me to stop."

"Yeah. But you and Clarke can be--merry and sappy and Christmas-y or whatever. You should be. You're good at it." She pauses. "And I'll help this once. I'll make the cookies, you do the decorations. And make her a card. She'll love that."

"I'm going to hug you."

"I knew you were." She heaves a huge sigh. "Just get it over with, okay?"

He gives her a quick squeeze and then yanks on her ankle as he rolls off the bed. She squeaks and kicks at him, and he grins. "Moment over. Come on, we've got cookies to make."

By the time Clarke gets back, they've got cookies cooling, Christmas lights hung, and a card and a whole pile of paper snowflakes made. He hears the door first, and then the sounds of Clarke getting her boots and coat off slowing as she notices the new decorations, and he's apparently tense enough to worry his sister.

By which he means she kicks him under the table. It's her version of concern.

Clarke finishes stripping off her winter gear and comes in, face trapped in an expression of cautious wonder.

"What happened in here?" she asks.

Bellamy and Octavia exchange a look.

"Christmas," says O.

"I hear it's the season," Bellamy adds. "Want to help us make snowflakes? We've got cookies to decorate after."

"That's a lot of Christmas," Clarke says, sitting down next to him. She still looks a little dazed.

"Too much?" he asks.

She shakes herself, picks up the scissors he's offering. "No, not too much." She smiles at them. "It looks really nice in here. Thanks."

O shrugs, deliberately nonchalant. "What's family for, right?"

"Right," Clarke says, smiling down at her hands. "Thanks, family."

He gives her the card on Christmas morning, along with her other presents, and she obviously loves all of them. But he's pretty sure that single moment is the best gift he could have gotten her.

This year, at least. He's looking forward to trying to outdo himself next year.

After all, it turns out he's not half bad at Christmas.


End file.
